


The Alternate Ending Project

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Fics: Supernatural [86]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Temporary Character Death, Episode: s15e20 Carry On Coda, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27655810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Ways we wish Supernatural had ended.(please see author's note for more information)
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: Prompt Fics: Supernatural [86]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/708447
Comments: 55
Kudos: 136
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the next day or two I'm taking prompts on Tumblr - reblog [this post](https://unforth.tumblr.com/post/635398329170313216/alright-at-the-risk-of-biting-off-way-more-than-i) with a single sentence about how you wish Supernatural had ended, and I'll write a ficlet. As I say there...it's just hurting me seeing everyone so sad and if I can bring a smile or three, I want to.
> 
> Yes, requests have to be on Tumblr, and they have be reblogs. Sorry, but if people write me asks and comments and whatnot with requests I'll get overwhelmed trying to keep track of it all.
> 
> Goal is to keep all of these under 1k words, but, well...we'll see I guess. Also note...I have not watched a single episode of SPN since 9x03 (which is when I personally grew so disgusted with the writers that I just Could Not anymore). Some of these prompts involve characters or elements from after that...I did my best, based on what I know of subsequent events.
> 
> I will be tagging rating, archive warnings, etc, in the a/n for each chapter, and posting each fill as a chapter. Also these are all unedited cause I'm trying to get them done quick...
> 
> Chapter 1 is for Pimmy! (Tumblr: [pimentogirl](https://pimentogirl.tumblr.com/), AO3: [Pimento](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pimento/pseuds/Pimento))
> 
> Prompt: I wanted them all happy and together.
> 
> Rating: Gen  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Cas, Dean, Sam, Bobby, and literally everyone else (I named who I could think of...)  
> Tags: Coda, canon-divergence, temporary major character death ala the episode, Bobby's a little shit and I love him so much

“So, Jack did all this?” Looking around, Dean tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. He had died...he knew he’d died...fuck, but that had hurt...but sitting outside with Bobby at his side, the Roadhouse at his back, he could swear it was a decade-plus years ago, before shit...and Dean...went to hell in a handbasket.

Except someone was missing.

“Well, Cas helped…” Bobby replied with a half-shrug.

That helped...but...

_ Everyone  _ was missing.

“It’s been a fuckton of work,” Bobby continued, looking out over the parking lot, giving Baby an approving nod.

The Impala was there, and Bobby was there, but where was everyone else?

“...like, swear to Jack, if I hear the word  _ logistics _ one more time I’m gonna pop a cap in someone…”

Sam not being there, Dean could accept. Sam lived - Sam  _ needed _ to live. But what use was the Roadhouse, without the people who had made it vibrant? Nothing but bricks and mortar, siding and neon. 

“Seriously, glad I’m just an old dude…”

Useless.

“... _ obviously _ I can’t help…”

Empty.

“...just gonna sit on my porch and drink my beer…”

_ Like... _ the _ Empty? Is this actually the Bad Place? _

“...and I can’t keep this up.” Bobby laughed, a titter (a giggle? Was it possible that Bobby  _ giggled _ ?) that grew into a belly laugh that burgeoned into a full-throated guffaw. “You should…” Head thrown back, mouth wide, eyes scrunched up, laugh-lines prominent, Bobby laughed. “...you should see your face!”

Dean stared at him. “Wha...what?”

“You  _ idjit _ !” Bobby collapsed forward, elbows on his knees, beer held so negligently Dean wasn’t sure how it didn’t fall. “Get your ass in there, they’re waiting for you.”

Moving as though in a dream, wide-eyed, exhilarated, terrified, Dean rose, walked to the door, pushed it open--

“ _ SURPRISE _ !” A wave of sound washed over him and tears flooded Dean’s eyes as he took in an ocean of faces - his parents and Rufus as promised, Jack, Ellen and Jo, Ash and the other Roadies, Charlie and Kevin and fucking  _ Crowley _ and Henriksen and Death himself and Benny and  _ Cain??  _ and Pam and the Barnes’ and holy shit  _ Gabriel _ and Dean couldn’t even see them anymore, his vision was too blurred by sorrow and joy and sure  _ what the actual fuck  _ overwhelmedness.

Sam...he’d definitely seen Sam...how...why...what?

No. Questions were for another time.

Someone was still missing...

“Hello, Dean,” murmured a raspy, utterly fucking  _ perfect _ voice in his ear as arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close.

...no, no one was missing.

No one would ever be missing from Dean's life again.

A hand landed on his shoulder, strong and reassuring, fatherly as it gave a squeeze. “Welcome home, boy,” Bobby said gruffly.

“The gang’s all here!” Ellen shouted. “Let’s get this party started - Jo, hit the jukebox. Free plays, all day, one day only - you break it, you bought it! Drinks are on Dean!”

“The only one who gets to drink off Dean is me!” Cas countered. Laughter answered him, and Dean choked a sob into Cas’ trenchcoat.

They were all together.

They were all happy.

And Dean...Dean had a home.

Finally.

Fucking. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sam's there cause Heaven is timeless or something, like, think the Prophets from DS9? Time isn't linear there so anyone who has ever been there or will ever be there...is already there...)
> 
> I've already got a bunch more prompts (like...5? it keeps increasing while I work...) so I'll just keep them coming...I've got about 7 hours to write today, and at least a couple tomorrow, so...hopefully I can do a lot. (no promises after the weekend tho...and I'm just gonna do um in the order I get um...)
> 
> (if you want to request your own, here's that link again: [this post](https://unforth.tumblr.com/post/635398329170313216/alright-at-the-risk-of-biting-off-way-more-than-i)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is for [benny-lafitte](https://benny-lafitte.tumblr.com/)! (aka, [AniH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniH/pseuds/AniH)!)
> 
> Prompt: "Hello, Dean," comes Cas's voice from inside, followed by Benny's "Hey, brother," as Dean steps in to the Roadhouse with Bobby behind him.
> 
> Rating: Teen  
> Ship: Dean/Cas/Benny  
> Characters: Dean, Cas, Benny, Bobby  
> Tags: post-canon, 15x20 coda, reunion, temp canonical character death

“Well, Cas helped…” Bobby shot a look toward the door, and Dean was moving, a single coherent thought driving him forward.

He was on his feet. 

_...Cas… _

He was striding to the door.

_...Cas… _

He used a shoulder to push his way in.

_...Cas… _

His eyes scanned the room.

_...Cas… _

“Hello, Dean.” 

And there he stood, in all his slump-shouldered, trench-coated, backwards-blue-tied glory. His lips were spread in a broad smile. His eyes sparkled so blue that Dean was positive that had to be some magic heaven bullshit because there was  _ no way _ they’d been that blue on earth - full on  _ bluest blue to ever blue _ garbage right there.

And by “bullshit,” Dean meant “exquisiteness.”

And by “garbage,” Dean meant “perfection.”

And by--

“Hey, brotha…”

And Dean’s legs went out from under him. He crashed to the rough wood floor of the Roadhouse, tense in anticipation of a burst of pain that never came, because apparently in Jack’s heaven, slamming knee caps into solid surfaces didn’t hurt, and angel’s eyes were impossibly blue, and--

“...you okay?”

\--and the gates weren’t barred against monsters.

“Benny?” he asked weakly. “That really you?”

“ ‘Twas last time I checked. But maybe you should do an inspection - real thorough and careful like, if you get me - just to be sure.”

Dean forced his eyes open to see Benny standing before him, a hand outstretched to help Dean up.

There was no way Dean could take that hand.

The minute they touched this entire illusion would shatter.

‘Cause that had to be it, right? This was Heaven, not Purgatory, and there was no way... _ no way… _

“How should I put this...how about a metaphor?” said Cas thoughtfully. “Once Jack ‘lifted the hood’ on the cosmos and started to adjust the ‘nuts and bolts’ it became clear that the divisions between Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory were purely arbitrary and - as we’ve learned from long experience, often exceptionally unfair. So...he changed the rules.”

The swell in his chest was far more joy than Dean could process. 

“You lost the metaphor,” Dean said weakly. What the fuck else could he say?

That he’d see Cas again, he’d always taken for granted. Maybe he shouldn’t have, and knowing they’d be reunited hadn’t made the hurt less, but he’d known in his heart that they’d be together again.

“Hm?” asked Cas, quirking his head to one side.

But he’d never dared even  _ dream  _ that he’d be reunited with Benny.

“Jack lifted the hood, mucked with the nuts and bolts...and then he changed the rules?” Dean shook his head. “Total mismatch, dude.”

Yet there Benny stood, an eyebrow raised, his lips curled in a smug half-smile, his hand still outstretched as he waited patiently.

“Fair,” Cas allowed with a nod. “Perhaps you can suggest a more apt one?”

“Oh, yeah…” Dean said. It was total bullshit. His mind was an empty mass of white noise and exuberance. “How about, uh…” 

Reaching out, he took Benny’s hand. Calloused skin brushed against his. Familiar strength pulled him up. There was  _ no way  _ this was real...yet there was  _ no way _ that  _ wasn’t  _ Benny. Dean had felt that hand, cradling his cheek, kneading down his chest, wrapped around his cock, and he’d never mistake it for any other. Benny grinned and pulled him up so powerfully he stumbled forward a step...and fuck it, why not stumble a few more steps...like the two or so separating them...and they crashed together, chest to chest, arms raising to embrace, and pat, and touch, and convince himself - convince  _ both  _ of them:  _ this. is. real.  _

“Dean?” Cas sounded...uncertain? Dean pulled away from Benny enough to look his way, meet his eyes - yup, still crazy blue, fuck that was awesome - and raise an eyebrow in a question. “The metaphor?”

“Right...that…” Dean nodded sagely like he’d actually been thinking about it. Holding Benny close with one arm, he reached out with the other, and was pleased to see Benny mirroring him as he said, “shut up and kiss me.”

Cas blinked.

“That’s the metaphor,” Dean clarified. 

“That’s...a metaphor…?”

“His brain’s scrambled. What else is new? Just get over here, chere,” Benny suggested with a smile.

And Cas did, filling the opening they’d made perfectly, one of his arms around Benny, the other around Dean, and it was…

“Hey, Cas.”

Warm.

“Hello, Dean.”

Close.

“How’ve you been, brotha?”

Powerful.

“Better now, Benny.”

Safe.

“Awesome.”

Comforting.

“Both of you...neither of you...don’t leave again, okay?”

It was…

“Never.”

...perfect.

“Never, ever, ever.”

Absolutely perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is for [heyitsnat](https://heyitsnat.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompt: Rowena or Cas shows up in the barn, scolds Dean for getting impaled and saves him. 
> 
> Rating: Gen  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Dean, Cas, Sam, Rowena (because...why not both??)  
> Tags: canon-divergence, major character injury, Rowena PoV and she is full of salt
> 
> (reminder that I've never actually seen a single episode with Rowena, since she was introduced after I quit after 9x03, though I have watched some clips and seen lots of gifs and kinda love her just based on what I know...so when I write her it's really just how I'd want her to be, lol...)

Life and death flickered inside the barn, drawing Rowena like a moth to the flame, and she rolled her eyes.

Really?

_ Really _ ?

How could the Winchesters be this competent and yet such  _ disasters _ ?

Lifting a hand, she released a blast of magic outward, slamming the barn doors open...knocking the barn doors off their hinges, oops, might have overdone it a little...but seriously,  _ what the actual hell was wrong with them? _

Literally. What the  _ actual. bloody. literal. Hell _ ?

The brothers stood within, forehead to forehead - okay, perhaps  _ standing  _ was the wrong word for what Dean was doing, but Rowena couldn’t be fussed to think of a better. At the sound of the explosion, Sam jerked back, rounding and dropping into a defensive stance. Dean flinched and groaned, a rivulet of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth, and Rowena could almost feel sorry for him, his agony was so patent.

She could  _ almost  _ feel sorry for him.

He should never have ended up in this idiotic situation in the first place.

“Well, you’ve both made a right mess of things, haven’t you?” she said, stepping in, her dress sweeping behind her. 

“Rowena?!” Sam exclaimed, rising. “You’re...you’re here!  _ You’re _ here! How...why...no, forget it - you have to help Dean!”

“I said...told you...let it go, Sammy...lemme go…”

“Stop talking,” Rowena said, rolling her eyes as she approached them.

“Yeah - yeah, Dean, you gotta conserve your strength. Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

“His strength? Pfft,” she scoffed, “I just don’t want to have to listen to him. Or you, for that matter. What kind of nonsense is this? Have you learned  _ nothing _ for me?”

“Oh. Uh. I mean. I didn’t think--”

“No, you didn’t,” she interrupted crisply. Stopping before Dean, she examined his wound. It was...grisly...but nothing she couldn’t handle. Still, her way of getting Dean off the nail would hurt, and likely tear the wound open more. She almost wanted to anyway...fuck knows he deserved to suffer for this exceptional instance of idiocy, but...no. “Cassie, darling, get in here.”

“ _ Cas _ ?!  _ WHAT _ ?!”

Rowena shot Sam a scowl. As if now was the moment to answer that question! There was flutter of wings and Castiel appeared.

“What is it  _ no _ \--” Castiel took in the scene in an instant and his jaw fell. “Oh my...someone...Dean! What happened?”

For some surreal reason Winchester actually tried to  _ answer _ , mouth working, eyes wide, more blood spilling out. Distress so obvious it magically permeated the air - and excuse him,  _ rude _ \- Castiel snapped his fingers. Dean disappeared from the spike and reappeared on the floor.

“Rowena, what the  _ fuck _ is going on?” Sam demanded, gaze darting where the blood stain marking where Dean had been moments before, to Rowena, to Castiel, to Dean, and back again. 

Castiel ignored them, stepping to Dean and dropping down to sit with him. 

“Don’t you know, it’s just like the evangelists have been saying all along - no prayer, no salvation…” Rowena shrugged. Castiel lifted Dean’s head onto his forehead, holding Dean’s gaze, muttering something that Rowena couldn’t be fussed to hear. “Turns out, life’s a bitch like that sometimes. Fortunately, I’m a bigger bitch. Now hush - Cassie needs to concentrate.”

Raising his hands to hover over Dean’s wound, Castiel coalesced grace so powerfully that goosepimples sprang up over Rowena’s chest and some of her curls went limp. 

He really was  _ insufferably  _ rude.

“Don’t worry, Dean...you’re going to be all right...everything is going to be all right…”

But, just this once, she supposed she could tolerate it.

“And once he is, these boys and I, need to have a talk about  _ asking for help _ and  _ risk assessment _ …”

As soon as Dean and Sam were better...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm getting...so many...I'll try, guys, but no promises...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is for [cas-and-lionheart](https://cas-and-lionheart.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Prompt: Dean getting ready to get into Baby, finding the keys are not in his pocket, and an off camera “Hello Dean” with (Cas’) hand holding the keys and Dean’s face in reaction.
> 
> Rating: G  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Dean, Cas  
> Tags: 15x20 coda, maybe in heaven someone else will be allowed to drive Baby??

“Aw, Baby - look at you!” Grinning, Dean circled his car, admiring her. She was always beautiful, but maybe it was the whole ‘this is Heaven’ insanity, or his happiness at seeing Bobby, or his knowledge that even though he’d epic failed to find a way to get Cas out of the Empty, Jack had done it for him, or...really, any number of things...but she seemed beautiful-er than he remembered.

Not that she was _fuller_ , but…

...oh, hell, now he was making fucking _Frozen_ jokes in his own head. How damn pathetic was _that_?

Eh, fuck it. He _did_ like Disney movies, and somehow, against all odds, the day he died was turning out to be the best fucking day of his life. He’d died fucktons of times before but none of them had actually ended up...good...before…

...but this...this was good.

Bobby was good.

The Roadhouse was good.

Knowing his parents and Rufus and everyone else were living nearby, one big fucked up family, was good.

Baby was really fucking good, fucking _mint_ , she was _gorgeous_.

Could things be better?

Yeah.

That hollow place where Cas used to be remained in his heart. If he was honest, it stung like crazy that Cas was apparently there...somewhere...and hadn’t even come to see him? The last thing - more or less - that Cas had said was _I love you_ yet he was fucking _nowhere_ and that was shit.

But fuck it. He’d gotten over way worse just by getting into Baby’s driver’s seat, rolling down all her windows, jacking up the music, and driving toward the farthest horizon. He’d get over this. He’d be fine.

“Whaddaya say, sweetie?” he murmured, patting over the arch of her roof. “Should we test those tires out or what?”

She didn’t answer.

Not that he’d expected her to.

Okay, but seriously, it was _Heaven_ , surely he could have hoped for a sec...right. Stop. It didn’t matter. Fuck it. Everything was good. Everything was awesome. 

He gripped Baby’s door handle - not a single scratch or dent in her old metal, she really was in fresh-off-the-lot condition - and pulled her door open...and froze.

Because there was someone in the driver’s seat.

Because fucking _Cas_

had 

just

fucking

materialized

in the driver’s seat.

"Hello, Dean."

“Cas?!” Dean exclaimed. “What the fuck, man?”

“I thought you might like to go for a drive,” Cas replied innocently, as if they’d been together for years, as if they didn’t have a fuckton of things to discuss, as if everything was normal…

...as if Dean _ever_ let anyone else drive Baby…

Fuck it. That seemed to be the motto of the day anyway.

Might as well roll with it. They had eternity to talk things through...and if Dean was really, _really_ lucky, they’d never have to, they could just segue into the next phase of their lives...undeaths...existences...whatever...together with the tacit understanding that they were together and there was nothing to discuss. But in the meantime…

“Sure thing,” Dean said, reaching into his pocket for the keys. “Shove over.” 

Cas didn’t budge.

Dean’s keys weren’t in his pocket.

Cas broke into a broad grin and held up the keys.

“Climb in,” Cas said, gesturing at the passenger seat. There was a gleam in his eye, a smirk on his lips, and for a hot second Dean considered telling him to go to hell and _move_ but…

_...you know what?_

_F.u.c.k. I.t._

Relaxing into a smile, Dean circled to the passenger side and got in as Cas turned the engine on. Cas seemed to know what he was about as he rolled down his window, leaned back with a single hand on the wheel, beamed delight as Dean put on his seat belt, reached over and turned on the radio…

“Hark, the herald angels sing - Glory to the new born king!”

“What the hell is this shit?” Dean squawked. “Nope - no way - absolutely fucking not - _Christmas_ music? Now??? What the actual--”

“Now, now, Dean,” Cas interrupted, lifting a condescending finger to his lips and then reaching out to put Baby in gear. “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole…”

Eh.

“But…”

Fuck it.

“Hmm…?”

What was there to complain about, really?

“Fine. Whatever.”

Everything was good.

“Is this one better?”

Everything was awesome.

“Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o’er the plains…”

But next time, Dean was fucking driving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sweat drop* at the current rate I'm getting about two prompts for each one I fill...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright took a short break to make some tea but I'm back, now with chamomile!
> 
> Chapter 5 is for [vagno-romano](https://vango-romano.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Prompt: Dean saves Cas and they get a non-hunting life together, Dean is maybe a mechanic?
> 
> (this one is the closest so far to my own personal ending...though still different...in case anyone was wondering, "why didn't unforth just write her own perfect ending ficlet?" the answer is, I already did a few weeks ago, and it'll be published in the [SPN Fare Thee Well Zine](https://spnfamily-faretheewell.tumblr.com/).)
> 
> Rating: Teen  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Dean, Cas  
> Tags: post-canon, fluff and feels, Cas PoV, human Cas, what happened? WHO KNOWS????

Rolling over on their bed, Castiel lay on his side and admired his husband. Dean was gorgeous all the time, but there was something extra enticing about him as he was now. Perhaps it was the way his half-shucked uniform clung to his hips, grease-heavy sleeves slapping about his legs. Perhaps it was the contrast between his oil-smeared hands and wrists and clean forearms and shoulders. Perhaps it was his exposed chest, svelte though no longer as chiseled as it had been when he was younger - feathered with dark hairs, soft with a bit of pudge around his waist, and just the top of his happy trail visible. Perhaps it was his pleased smile as he putzed around the bathroom, scrubbing the sink to procrastinate hopping in the shower.

Perhaps it was simply that Castiel was the only one allowed to see Dean like this.

“There’s something I’ve always wondered, Dean…” Castiel said as Dean picked up their toothbrush holder, wiped it off, and set it back down.

“Clowns,” Dean replied automatically, glancing Castiel’s way and offering him a dazzling half-smile. “With Sam off doing his own thing I guess now I can finally admit it - they scare the fuck outta me too, goddamn  _ creepy _ motherfuckers…” He shuddered artfully, and Castiel considered...maybe he shouldn’t ask...maybe he shouldn’t bring up the past...maybe it wasn’t worth worrying about…

The same things he  _ always _ thought whenever his question rose to the fore of his mind...all the reasons he’d never asked even though he’d always wondered.

Today felt different, though.

Today, asking felt...right. And Castiel had learned, through long experience and countless heartaches, that trusting his gut instinct was  _ always _ the right thing to do.

“How did you do it?” Castiel asked. Dean froze midway through wiping the medicine cabinet mirror and turned to him, lips curving into a slight uncertain frown. 

“...gonna have to be a  _ smidge _ more specific than that…” Dean tried to play up his reaction with a forced smile, but there was no laughter in his voice, no ease to the tension in his shoulders.

“How did you save me?” said Castiel.

“Oh,  _ that _ .” To Castiel’s amazement, Dean’s tension vanished. Breaking into an easy grin, he used his cleaning cloth to wipe his hands, threw it onto the lip of the sink, and swaggered across the room. “Honestly, Cas? It’s a boring-ass story. Lotta praying. Lotta saying ‘fuck you’ to creatures that could wipe me out easy as me wiping my ass. Lotta Sam thinkin’ it’d never work, and me tellin’ him I didn’t give a shit, I wasn’t gonna stop.” Dean dropped to his knees beside the bed, an earnest, happy expression on his face. “A whole hell of a lot of shit, and in the end not a lick of it mattered.”

“Oh, hm...wait, what?” Rising, Castiel sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread so that Dean could kneel between them, and looked down at his love.

He was pretty sure Dean was telling the truth.

He had no idea what Dean was getting at.

“It’s true,” Dean said, nodding. “Spent fuckin’  _ years _ hunting the merest rumor of you, or the Empty, or anything that might help...nothin’, zilch, got bubkis fuckin’ nowhere. You wanna know how I saved you Cas? Search me. I haven’t got a fuckin’ clue. Pretty sure I didn’t.”

“You...didn’t? You didn’t?” Frowning, Castiel delved into his memories. He remembered sharing his love with Dean. He remembered being swallowed by the Empty. 

And then he remembered nothing…

“Nope. Not a fuckin’ thing. To quote the immortal Shaggy - wasn’t me.”

...until he woke up in the barn where he and Dean had first been reunited on earth, and Dean was there and drunk off his ass, and Sam was trying to clean him up, and both of them saw him, and stopped, and stared, and…

“Sam said, ‘holy shit, it worked,” said Castiel accusingly.

“Oh, I sure as fuck let him  _ think _ I did something,” Dean allowed with a nod. “What was I gonna say - ‘naw, Sammy, I didn’t do anything, don’t know how he got here.’ He’d have flipped his fucking lid!”

“He  _ should  _ have! What if this is...a trap? Maybe I’m a danger to you! This is...what?”

Dean shook his head.

“Why are you…?” Castiel frowned, trying to think of the right words. “You’re not concerned?”

“Cas…” Reaching up, Dean clasped Castiel’s cheeks, cradled his chin. “Like...you’re not wrong.” His hands were warm and rough and pungent with oil, and only Castiel’s nervousness kept him from nuzzling into that wonderful touch. “But honestly?”

“Always, I hope…”

“By that point, I’d’a done fucking  _ anything _ to get you back,” Dean said. “Made any damn deal. Destroyed any plain of existence. Fuck, I woulda gone for Jack, if I thought it would work, though I’m seriously glad that was never in the cards ‘cause that woulda been a wrench. I’d’ve burned the fucking  _ world _ for two more minutes with you. And there you were, and the world wasn’t burning, and Sammy and Eileen and Jack and everyone were fine, and sure, I considered what shit mighta brought you to that point. I wrestled with it for a whole whopping  _ two milliseconds _ before I realized  _ I didn’t fucking care anymore _ . You were there. You are here. That’s all I care about.”

That...didn’t sound right.

“So, whaddaya think?”

That...seemed like a string of logic that Castiel should argue against.

“Is it the grand tale of rescue and redemption you were hoping for?”

That...was probably a damn good way to get them all killed in the worst possible way when they least expected it.

“Or should I go get the clown makeup?”

But...Dean was right. Castiel had lost Dean time and again. Whatever had brought him back, however they’d gotten to this moment, they were together and had been together for over ten glorious years,

Castiel was there.

Dean was there.

And, for better or for worse...that was all that Castiel cared about, too.

“I’d prefer you not, coulrophilia is far down my list of fetishes I’d care to investigate,” he deadpanned.

“Courol..coulr...whatever-the-fuck-you-just-said-philia  _ what _ ?” Dean demanded.

“Coulrophilia,” Castiel repeated. “Clown fetish.”

“Clown. Fetish.”

“Clown fetish.”

“ _ How the actual fuck do you know that off the top of your head _ ?”

“I’m a former angel of the Lord, Dean,” Castiel said serenely. “I know many things.”

“But not how you came back?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Well then. Glad we’re in the dark together, at least…” He leaned up, pulled Castiel down, and brought them together for a soft kiss.

“I’m always glad we’re together.” Castiel smiled and kissed him again. “Always.”

“Yeah, Cas...yeah...always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this is the first one that really got away from me, oops...I really do want to try to keep them short, it's the only prayer I've got of filling as many as possible...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 is for [stuck-on-kataa-floko](https://stuck-on-kataa-floko.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Prompt: I really wanted them all alive, retired, and Cas starting a garden at the house he and Dean live in
> 
> Rating: G  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Dean, Cas, but mentions of many others  
> Tags: Canon-divergent, symbolism of flowers, Cas PoV, it's so fluffy

“Hey, Cas - whatcha got there?”

Swiping a hand across his brow to wipe away sweat, Castiel looked up toward Dean, squinting for the sunshine backlighting him.

“It’s a garden,” Castiel replied.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dean said. 

“My name is Castiel, not Sherlock.”

Circling around the small cleared plot, Dean gazed at the cornucopia of blooms and stalks. 

“ _ No shit _ ,  _ Sherlock _ .”

Castiel rose, wiped dirt on his gardening apron, set his hands on his hips and admired his handiwork.

The plot of land was small; money was always tight, and their home was a pokey mess, but it was home, and Castiel loved it for that...this garden was similar, he supposed, a pokey mess. There were so many plants that they crowded each other. They’d only been in the ground a few minutes but a few of the healthiest and happiest were already turning their petaled faces toward the sunlight. Columbine and dahlias and camellia and bluebells and dozens of others, many out of season, bloomed side by side, leaves in endless verdant shades of green. It had taken some of Castiel’s limited reserves of grace to get them all to bloom at the same time...it was a good thing Dean didn’t know enough about plants to recognize that, or he’d be pissed.

_ We’ve sacrificed so much - why the fuck should any of us, why the fuck should  _ you _ , sacrifice more _ ? Dean always said whenever Castiel suggested he could use grace to solve a problem.

Castiel usually listened...usually, he supposed Dean was right and it wasn’t worth it...but he’d been planning this garden for years, and he wanted this.

No, more than that...he needed this.

“Uh...earth to Cas?” Dean asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Yes, Dean?” replied Castiel, breaking into a serene smile.

The garden was  _ perfect _ .

“You gonna tell me about this, or should I, like, I don’t even fucking know, just start randomly guessing?”

“While I’m intrigued to think what guesses you might make, I’ll spare you the mental acrobatics and gratify you,” Castiel said.

“Thank you for that.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s our victory garden.”

“Victory garden?” said Dean. Castiel nodded. “What, like, World War 2? Soccer moms during Covid summer? Victory garden??”

“No, like - between us and our loved ones we saved the world more times than we can count, and we deserve to celebrate that - victory garden.”

“So...it’s celebratory? Is there some kind of symbolism or some shit here?”

“There is,” Castiel replied. “I’ve spent the last few years gathering information on everyone’s favorite flowers, and researching types of blooms, and this is the result.”

“Wow, that’s, uh...something…” Dean turned to look over the flowers as a breeze stirred the blossoms. “Something good. Really good. So good I’ll give you exactly one - count um,  _ one _ \- sentence of true and utter sappiness when I say, it’s fuckin’ gorgeous. Which one is mine?”

“...you don’t know what you’re own favorite flower is?”

“I didn’t even know I  _ had  _ a favorite flower…”

“Fair,” Castiel allowed. Dean hadn’t actually  _ told  _ Castiel his favorite flower; Castiel had simply observed his reaction to plants until he concluded which one - based on duration of looking, width of smile, and other factors - Dean reacted most positively to. “This one is yours…” He gestured. “Columbine.” It was one of Castiel’s favorites flowers, and while he  _ had  _ researched symbolism, he didn’t think Dean would appreciate being informed that it represented foolishness and follow...but also resolution.

“Oh, awesome…” Apparently Dean had forgotten his decision to only give one compliment. “...what about the rest?”

“Calla lily,” Castiel said, pointing at the elegant flower, “is Eileen’s. It symbolizes  _ magnificent beauty _ .”

“She is that, inside and out...this one?”

“It’s a Texas bluebell - Bobby’s favorite. Humility and constancy.”

“Has Sam got one?”

“Dill - it’s really more of an herb but he just shrugged and said he likes to cook and the flowers are pretty so I went with it. It symbolizes ‘powerful against evil.’”

“Well, he is that, annoying bastard...but Cas, there are like fifty different flowers here!”

“Yeah, there are…” Castiel shrugged. “We’ve got a big family.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean replied fervently.

“I’d love to...let’s see...the daisy is Jo - innocence and hope--”

“First one you got wrong, ha.”

“--and the black-eyed susan is Ellen, that’s Justice...there’s clematis for Charlie, she really is a mental beauty, and mint for Henriksen, if he’s not virtuous I don’t know who is...and…”

And Castiel talked, and showed Dean the flowers, and talked, and showed Dean the flowers, and talked, until he was hoarse, and until dusk was falling, and all the while Dean smiled, and held his hand, and it was perfect.

Everything they’d done…

“Wow, you really got everyone in here, didn’t you…”

...everything that had been done to them…

“...like, Cas...you really dug down on what suited them...this is a  _ fuckton  _ of work…”

...everyone they’d hurt…

“I did. It was.”

...everyone who’d hurt them...

“So...what’s mine symbolize, Cas?”

...everyone they’d lost...

“Oh, nothing…”

The first car pulled up, parked, and Sam and Eileen stepped out.

“Cas…!”

...everything they’d sacrificed…

“Oh, look! They’re here!”

...it was worth it.

“Dean! Cas! Long time, no see!”

It was all worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 is for [seventhcircleoffamilycircus](https://seventhcircleoffamilycircus.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> Prompt: Sam’s the new Bobby with Eileen and their friends while Dean becomes the new Death and lives eternally with Castiel. 
> 
> Rating: T  
> Ship: Destiel, Saileen  
> Characters: Dean, Sam  
> Tags: post-canon, Dean PoV, temporary major character death (different than canon ones), this one is sad but hopefully also happy

_ Bitch (11:36 am) _ **:** Hey you got a few minutes?

_ Bitch (11:36 am):  _ I got another one for ya.

_ Dean (11:37 am) _ : Bitch, really? How the fuck do so many people constantly die around you? 

_ Dean (11:38 am) _ : It’s like you’re fucking cursed or something.

_ Bitch (11:39 am) _ : Really, Dean? You’re gonna pull the ‘cursed’ card after everything we’ve been through?

_ Dean (11:40 am) _ : Really, Sammy? Gonna pull the texting me air quotes card after everything we’ve been through?

_ Bitch (11:41 am) _ : I swear to Jack you’re a fucking five year old. Are you coming or not?

_ Dean (11:42 am) _ : Yeah yeah on my way hold your horses I’m a busy man you know.

Shaking his head, grinning despite himself, Dean pocketed his cell and shot Cas a look. “Hey, babe, you good here?” The battlefield was strewn with the dead and dying - the kind of thing that would keep Dean busy for fucking  _ ages _ , fucking  _ paperwork _ , sometimes he  _ hated _ this job - but if Sam needed him, well...it was Sam.

“I believe I can handle this,” Cas said, nodding. “And don’t call me  _ babe _ .”

“Whatever, babe,” Dean leered and vanished before Cas could exact retribution. They’d probably have a mock-fight about it later, which was  _ awesome _ , because mock-fights meant very real making up, and extremely real and excellent make up sex, and  _ worth it _ . He re-corporated in Sam’s living room, expecting the usual reception - Sam and Eileen waiting for him, Sam complaining  _ what took you so long _ , Eileen scolding him and signing her apologies for Sam being a dumbass and their understanding that Dean was a damn busy, important man, now, thank you very much...and then an explanation of where the corpse was and why they needed Dean’s help.

But no.

The room was dark, even though it was midday - curtains drawn, lights out.

The house was quiet, eerily so, uncomfortably so.

Neither Sam nor Eileen was there, and when Dean extended his senses, looking for life, he found it upstairs...one soul, tainted by demon blood but still burning bright...but he also felt death.

Oh.

Oh  _ no _ .

Frightened and worried, Dean bolted to the hallway and took the stairs three at a time. Fuck that he was Death incarnate, he felt  _ human _ , and terrified, so much so that he forgot ‘til his boots hit the second floor landing that he could have teleported directly to Sam’s side. Too late now, forget it - he sprinted down the hall, slammed into the far wall, turned to the open door, and had his worst fears concerned.

Eileen lay, unmoving, on the bed. Age had been kind to her; her long hair framed her hair, more salt than pepper now, and happiness had adorned her face with deeply incised laugh lines. She was beautiful, even old, even dead, and if Dean could have wept he would have.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes limned red with sorrowful tears. Age had been...a bit less kind to him...fucking ridiculous sasquatch with his sasquatch hair and his dumbass glasses and his wrinkles and his...his...really, Dean was ready to dwell on  _ anything _ rather than the reality of his sister-in-law, gone, and his brother, a widower.

But it  _ was  _ real.

“Oh, Sam. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

And Dean had a job to do.

“S’ok,” Sam lied. “I mean. We knew it was coming. Metastasized cancer.”

“You should have told me!”

Sam shrugged. “I knew you’d come when the time came.”

“Of fucking course I’d come, but I’d have liked to have said goodbye! What the fuck, Sam?”

“What, am  _ I  _ stopping you from saying goodbye?” said Sam. “ _ You’re _ gonna see her before  _ I  _ do…”

“Fair…” Rolling his eyes, Dean reached out and gathered the slowly fading shards of Eileen’s soul into his hand. They pooled, coalesced, glowed green and gold. 

_ You good there, sis?  _ he asked her.

_ Is Sam okay?  _ she replied mournfully.

_ Naw, he’s butt ugly, but you tolerated him anyway so there’s no accounting for taste. _

_ I’m glad you’re with him, Dean _ , her disregard of his strained jocularity was achingly in character.  _ He shouldn’t be alone right now. _

_ Don’t worry, _ he reassured her,  _ I’ll take care of him. Get upstairs, there’s folks waiting for you. _

Before she could answer - he couldn’t handle hearing more, not right now - he inhaled deep, blew out hard, and breezed her up to Heaven.

At least now he and Cas would be able to visit her whenever they wanted. Going upstairs was  _ way  _ easier than manifesting on earth, and months-long visits could occur in the blink of an eye, so they could spend time without it interfering with work.

“Dean?”

Sam’s forlorn voice pulled Dean back to the mortal plane; Sam looked at him, face shadowed by the lowering darkness, tears streaming down his face.

“C’mere, Sammy,” Dean said gruffly, pulling his brother up into a rough hug. “I gotchu. It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not...it won’t be…” Sam sobbed. “But I know...I  _ know _ ...I’ll see her again...thank you for that…fuck, Dean, this is hard…”

_ I should say… _

_ No I shouldn’t. _

_ I should offer… _

_ No I shouldn’t. _

_ I should suggest… _

_ No I shouldn’t. _

_ … _

_ … _

_ Okay, but why not? _

_ Because he might say yes? _

_ Because if he says yes, I’ll have to…? _

_ Way to be a selfish dickbag, Dean. Just suck it up and offer.  _

_ Heck, if he says yes...there’s not really a down side... _

“You know...if you wanted to go with her…”

_...except for the whole  _ I’ll have to murder my brother _ thing... _

“That’s...that’s tempting...but no,” Sam said. Dean would never admit how relieved he was. Sam would die soon enough without any help - he was pushing 90 - but even knowing that he’d get to see Sam more, and Sam would be with Eileen and their parents and everyone...he still wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do it. “I’m still needed here. Thanks...thanks for. Ya know. Everything.” Sam gave Dean’s back a hearty pat and stepped back from their embrace, sniffling and wiping tears from his face. “You should go. I know you’re busy. I’m okay. Really.”

“Yeah, I hear ya...Bobby’s got big shoes to fill and you’re a badass for doing it...but you’re also a fuckin’ idiot if you think I’m going anywhere.”

“But--”

“No buts! Okay, that’s a lie - one butt, and it’s Cas’...but you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do, and ew, and  _ no _ , and...and yes.” With a big sigh, Sam’s shoulders fell again and he looked around the room helplessly.

“...I got seriously no fuckin’ idea what that all meant.”

“It means...I’m glad you’re staying. I don’t actually wanna be alone right now…I just know...”

“You don’t gotta say it,” Dean said gently. “I know. But don’t worry - the next few years might be shit, but you’ll do good work, and after you’ll never have to be alone, Sammy.”

“That sounds…that sounds perfect...oh God, I miss her so much already...”

Heart aching, Dean pulled Sam close again, and held him, and comforted him, and reminded him, over and over...with Jack in Heaven, and Dean as Death, and Cas leading the angelic choir...none of them would  _ ever  _ have to be alone again.

They would always, eternally, have each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I've finally done all the prompts I got before I even posted the first fill, lmao...
> 
> ...I just realized I haven't put Jody or Donna or any of the Waywards in anything, I need to fix that...it certainly wasn't intentional, I love all of them...
> 
> Anyway. There are TWENTY FIVE I haven't done yet, and more still coming. Tumblr user literaturely-a-mess has, extremely kindly, offered to help me do some, since there's no way I'll be able to do them all alone. I'll link to their AO3 post once it's up, but for now you can check them out at [AngeloftheDawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeloftheDawn/pseuds/AngeloftheDawn). 
> 
> I'm gonna take a break, eat some lunch, and try to get three or four more done today. It took me almost four hours to do 7, so...yeah, I'm definitely not gonna be able to get to everyone, but I'll do what I can. Thanks for reading so far, everyone!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I've added a chapter count cause I've decided I'm gonna stop today when I hit ten. I may do more tomorrow? But I'm not sure yet. If I do, I'll add them to this file, so idek subscribe or something if you want more alternate endings???
> 
> Chapter 8 is for [amirosebooks](https://amirosebooks.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Prompt: Driving off into the sunset with the found family they fought for.
> 
> Rating: G  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Dean, Sam, Cas  
> Tags: canon-divergent, everyone lives, classic rock
> 
> I...I had to guys.

Grabbing the box of cassettes from under the bench seat, Dean rifled through them, trying to remember which mix was the right one. He’d always meant to fucking label these things - especially the ones he recorded off the radio circa 1987 - but he’d never gotten around to it, and it was too late now.

“What’re you looking for, Dean?” Sam asked, and he sounded genuinely curious.

He really should have known better.

Dean paused his search long enough to gaze out the window at the huge array of vehicles parked in the parking lot of the abandoned Walmart where they’d agreed to meet. Several people in the closest cars - Charlie, Jody, Claire, others - saw him looking and caught his eyes, answering with smiles and waves. Garth leaned against the horn of his truck and waved out the window, shouting, as if Dean could _possibly_ have not noticed him there. At the sound of his horn, others did the same, until the air was filled with a cacophony, everything from the rinky-dink _beep, beep_ of Madison’s smart car through the full basso _hooooooooooonk_ of the semi that Donna had requisitioned from her department’s impound. 

“What do _you_ think, bitch?” said Dean, looking back to his cassettes. 

Best of Zep...excellent, but no.

Radio Mix Twelfteen...a good one, but he didn’t think it was one there.

Sam’s Faves... _how_ was that even still _in the box_ , fucking Nirvana bitch garbage?

Never again - he threw it at Sam, who scrambled to catch it.

“I think you’re a pain in the ass, jerk,” scowled Sam. “I get that you think you’re clever, but you’re not. Just tell me what you’re looking for and lemme help.”

“10-4, Pig Pen,” said Dean, putting aside The First Mix ‘cause it was _definitely_ not on that one and glancing askance so he could enjoy the _exact moment_ when Sam realized what Dean was reference and the color drained from his face in five…

...four…

...three…

...two…

...one…

Bitch face!

Right on time.

“You wouldn’t,” Sam said, horrified.

“Oh, oh, but you _know_ I would, Rubber Duck,” Dean grinned.

“What wouldn’t Dean do, Sam?” asked Cas from the backseat. “Visit a farm? Enjoy a plasticine toy in a bathtub?”

“It is _so much worse_ than that, Cas,” groaned Sam. Cackling, Dean returned to the box. He was like 99%...95%...81.4%...sure that it was on his sixth mix, which had to be in the box somewhere. “It’s a song where--”

“Dean, darling, are we getting this show on the road soon?” The incongruity of Balthazar’s...everything...was breathtaking in that moment, calling Dean ‘darling,’ dust on the hood of his otherwise pristine Aston Martin, and his accent as he tried to sound urbane while shouting to be heard over the honking horns, and considering the song Dean was looking for...just...amazing.

“Soon,” Dean promised. “Just gimme a minute…”

“Do. Not.” There was a warning in Sam’s voice, as if Dean gave a fuck. “I’m warning you, Dean.” He just had to find...not number 5...had to find...not number 7 either, for fuck’s sake, of course he’d find everything _but_ the one he wanted, and-- “If I suffer, you suffer.”

“How many of your burrito farts have I survived?” Dean countered. “You’ll l-- aha!” Triumphant, he pulled out Mixtape Route 66, the sixth he’d made, while they were hunting every mother-fucker along Route 66, during the summer of 1986...fucking _perfect_.

“How bad could it be?” Cas asked sympathetically.

“You have _no idea_ ,” Sam replied as Dean hummed, grinned, and shoved the tape into the player.

_...and she’s buying a stairway to heaven…_

Good song, but no. Dean slammed the fast forward button, murmuring a silent promise to the Zep gods that he’d play Stairway later.

“I have some idea,” disagreed Cas. “I’ve been in the car for many burrito farts, too.”

Dean hit play…

_...woman taken by the wind…_

...God, no, he had never liked that song and _definitely_ hadn’t listened for three hours so he could record it and _absolutely_ didn’t know the words so well that he recognized it from just that line and he slammed the fast forward button again.

“Who’s side are you on?” complained Sam.

_...get what you want…_

Bullshit, Dean was gonna get _exactly_ what he wanted. Wasn’t that exactly what everyone being here signified? After everything they’d all suffered, they were all here, in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere, with their cars, and they were _together_.

“Dean’s, of course,” Cas said blandly.

_...want to be there in myyyyy city…_

And he did - Dean wanted to be there, in this shit town, surrounded by his brother, his angel, his family, his friends, everyone.

“Dean’s, of course,” Sam mimicked, turning up his lip and moving his head back and forth.

“Don’t do that, you look like an idiot,” Dean said absently, letting the tape run forward, forward, forward.

“I may look like an idiot, but you _are_ an idiot,” Sam countered. “Are you _really_ going to--”

_CAUSE WE’VE GOT A MIGHTY CONVOY, AIN’T IT A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT?_

Fucking _perfect_. “Woooohoo!” Dean cheered, letting the tape rewind...

“Oh _no_ ,” Sam groaned.

“Oh _yes_ ,” Dean crowed.

“I still don’t understand…”

“But you will, Cas,” Dean laughed, hitting play and spinning the volume to max. He’d timed it perfectly; the crackle of dead radio air gave him a few seconds before the song started. “You will.” Leaning out the window, Dean bellowed, “Alright, my fuckers, you ready to get this show on the road?”

“Who you callin’ a fucker, asshole?”

“Just say the word, Dean!”

_HOOOONK. HOOONK._

“Ah, breaker one-nine, this here’s the Rubber Duck…” The song began like a C.B. Radio kicking on as Dean put Baby into gear. 

Pulling to the parking lot exit, he glanced in the rear view mirror...everyone was lining up behind him, smooth as could be, and yeah, it was a fucking _beautiful_ sight.

“Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a convoy,” Dean whooped along with the radio.

“I hate you, Dean,” Sam groaned.

“You sure about that, _looooove machine_? Cause it’s I’m about to put the hammer down…”

“Hate. You.”

“But Sam,” Cas said earnestly, picking up the tune, “we got a little ol’ convoy rockin’ through the night!”

“That’s the spirit,” Dean laughed. “We gonna roll this turckin’ convoy ‘cross the USA.”

And he pulled out of the parking lot.

“Convooooooooy!”

And everyone he knew, everyone he loved, followed along behind him.

“Convoooooooooooooooy!”

And together, they rode off toward the West, and Route 66, and the sunset.

“Ain’t _nothing_ gonna get in our way…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And say I'm sorry but that would be an utter and complete lie and ya'll know it.
> 
> Songs referenced/quoted:  
> Led Zeppelin - Stairway to Heaven  
> Fleetwood Mac - Rhiannon  
> The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want  
> Journey - Lights
> 
> (ftr, I picked Stairway to Heaven and after that got all the rest on random, in this order, from Pandora...)
> 
> And of course...  
> C.W. McCall - CONVOY! ([if you don't know it you should watch this video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sd5ZLJWQmss))
> 
> (do NOT ask how many times I watched it while writing this...it's four minutes long, you do the math...)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 is for [gneisscastiel](https://gneisscastiel.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Prompt: "Castiel gets his wings back; fixes heaven to be more of a paradise and less of a bureaucracy, and Dean helps."
> 
> Rating: G  
> Ship: Destiel  
> Characters: Dean, Cas  
> Tags: canon divergent, post-canon, tooth rotting fluff

“You know, Cas…”

Rubbing a hand over his forehead, Castiel squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He was an angel. Fatigue? Impossible. Boredom? Unfathomable. Frustration? Definitely not part of God’s, or Chuck’s, or Jack’s, or  _ anyone _ ’s, plan. And yet there he was, exhausted, annoyed, and so done...except he wasn’t done.

“Caaas? Helllllllo?”

He was  _ never  _ done.

“Hm?” he hummed, forcing his eyes back open and grabbing the next paper from his inbox.

“When we agreed to this whole ‘dismantle heaven’s bureaucracy’ bullshit, this really isn’t what I had in mind,” Dean said. 

“What do you mean?” asked Castiel. He was only half-listening. Dean would complain - because Dean was Dean - but Dean would also do what needed to be done, because Dean was  _ Dean _ . So Castiel knew he didn’t spare him much attention. Meaningly dialog was how Dean helped the days pass, just as Castiel helped them pass by--

“Oh, you know, the part where we replaced the  _ entire fucking bureaucracy _ with us...with  _ you _ …?”

“Mn,” Castiel shrugged. It really hadn’t been what they meant, but paradise didn’t run itself, and there was always more work to be done. Castiel just needed to get through the next page, and the next page, and the next page - his motivation was an ever-shifting goal post of  _ as soon as I finish this I can stop _ and in  _ years _ of toil he’d never reached it.

He might be Sisyphus.

This  _ might  _ be Hell, his hell.

But for everyone else, it  _ was  _ Heaven, Dean included, and that made it worth--

Hands grabbed Castiel’s cheeks and tugged his gaze up from his work. Dean leaned across his desk, so close Castiel could have tasted his breath if either of them still breathed, and pinned Castiel in place with a emerald stare that would have stolen that breath away again.

But.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel rumbled. “I’m sorry. I’m busy, but I’ll be done--”

“No.”

“Once I’m through this stack, I’ll--”

“No.”

“Dean--”

“No.”

“But--”

“ _ No _ , Cas!” Dean interrupted, and though his voice was harsh, his expression was gentle. “You’re done!”

“I’m not done.”  _ I’m never done _ .

“You. Are. Done.”

The desk evaporated, taking Castiel’s paperwork with him. He was so tired he could hardly muster a protest to see it gone, could find only half-hearted objections as, in place of his orderly office, a beach materialized. Crystalline blue waves washed a spotless white sand beach. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of palm trees and blew out the lustrous curtains of a cabana, already equipped with paper-umbrella-capped maitais.

“...what’s this?” Castiel asked, baffled.

He had work to do, damn it.

“Uh, what’s it look like?” replied Dean, looking genuinely confused.

“...a waste of time??”

“It’s  _ paradise _ , Cas!” Throwing his hands up, Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“It’s definitely not,” Castiel disagreed. 

“No? Really, okay, let’s try…”

The scene shifted in a blink (not that Castiel blinked any more) and a cold wind gusted between enormous buildings as lights twinkled in windows as numerous as the stars in the sky. Snow flakes fell, perfect, between the skyscrapers. A crowd of people skated loops and circles and figure eights on an ice skating rink, over which an enormous spruce encircled by countless Christmas lights promised winter warmth and hope for the new year.

“This is...Rockerfeller center?” Castiel asked.

“Paradise!” Dean proclaimed.

“...still no…” Shaking his head, Castiel looked to Dean. He looked adorably crestfallen, and then he brightened.

“Wait, I’ve got it now…”

New York evaporated and in its place a forest burgeoned from seedling to verdance in an instant. Ancient trees made an interwoven canopy overhead, dyeing the sunlight green. Birds chirped, and leaves rustles, and somewhere nearby an animal lowed, and somehow Castiel knew there wasn’t another soul within a thousand miles of them.

“It’s a very nice forest, Dean, but it’s still not paradise.”

“Come on, Cas? Really? Party pooper.”

“I promise, Dean, I have pooped at exactly zero parties in my entire life.”

“TMI, Cas...okay...last try...if this doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will.”

There was a rushing feeling and they landed in a small bedroom. There was nothing lavish about it, nothing special...it’s preciousness was in its ordinariness. The bed was made. The curtains were drawn back to show a fenced in backyard. Family pictures - of their entire huge family, from the Wayward Girls through Kevin and the prophets through the many creatures they’d befriended and opened the gates of heaven to - were interspersed with books on the bookshelf. A pair of rings and a bottle of cologne rested atop the dresser.

It was...it was nice.

It was really nice.

“You like it?” asked Dean hopefully.

Castiel shrugged.

“Man, I don’t get you. What’s it take to make an angel happy? What’s  _ your  _ Heaven, Cas?”

“I can’t believe you still don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Fuckin’...enlighten me, or something.”

“Wrong mythos,” Castiel said with a smile. “I offer no enlightenment, only a simple truth: that all of these places have been fine, but none of them have been right, because for me, Heaven is wherever you are.”

“What.” Like he really hadn’t known. Like he truly didn’t believe it.

“You are my Heaven, Dean,” repeated Castiel with a tender smile.

“Oh. You’re an  _ idiot _ . Well, that sure explains a lot,” Dean replied sourly.

“Yes, but I’m  _ your  _ idiot,” Castiel said.

“...well then. Fair enough. Welcome to paradise, Cas…” and Dean scooped Castiel into a passionate kiss, dragging them both down onto the bed.

...and Castiel? Was in  _ Heaven _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...oh man...I am beat...but I think I've got one more in me...let's do this...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 is for [eeveestoneson](https://eeveestoneson.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> Prompt: Dean saves Cas from the empty and Sam starts a network of hunters with Eileen.
> 
> Rating: G  
> Ships: Saileen, Destiel  
> Characters: Sam, Eileen, Dean, Cas  
> Tags: Canon-divergent, post-canon, hunter networks, Eileen's PoV
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I am not deaf nor am I close with any deaf people. This is a hastily written ficlet done based on my knowledge of how things work and if I got something wrong I am so, SO sorry, because that is absolutely not my intention...in retrospect, maybe I should have written this differently rather than risking misrepresenting Eileen but...oh well. I went for it, and hopefully I did okay, and if I didn't, I'm absolutely open to criticism in this regard, if anyone who knows more and isn't fucking sick of dealing with ableism from people like me is willing to tell me. (and if not I totally understand, you owe me nothing and have zero responsibility to educate me, in another circumstance I'd have done the research and educated myself, and I'm sorry if I fucked up.)

Anxious, Eileen looked from one screen, to the next, to the next, as they washed out to staticky snow one by one. She and Sam and Dean had called in every favor they had - to tackle the mystery of the Empty, to find Cas, and now to launch this excellent and definitely not even slightly insane rescue plan that had a damn good chance of getting Dean killed and a non-zero chance of getting them  _ all  _ killed...but no. It  _ had  _ to work. Even as the monitors broke, cutting off her visuals of each of the rituals they’d coordinated across the globe, she repeated that to herself.

_ It has to work _ .

Johannesburg cut off.

_ It has to work. _

Concepcion cut off.

_ It has to work. _

Yakutsk cut off.

_ It has to work. _

Dushanbe cut off.

_ It has to work _ .

Perth cut off.

_ It has to work. _

Sioux Falls cut off.

That was them.

That was Eileen’s view of Sam in the next room winking out like a light.

_ No! _

Breath catching, she surged to her feet as the last of her screens blanked out.

“Sam?” she called. It was dumb. She wouldn’t be able to hear if he answered anyway, for fuck’s sake. “Sam, did you get them?” But maybe he’d hear her - maybe he’d come - maybe he’d be fine - maybe he’d reassure her there was nothing to worry about - maybe he’d--

The door flung open before she reached it and Sam emerged. Relief flooded Eileen so powerfully that she swooned forward and Sam caught her effortlessly just as she’d hardly dared hope he would. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, leaning into his heat, fear still quickening her heartbeat. “Did they make it through?”

With obvious reluctance, Sam shifted back from her enough that he could sign -  _ incredibly  _ badly, nearly incomprehensibly, what was he thinking, using one hand and at an angle from which she couldn’t see his face? - “I am, and they did.”

And all worries about his poor signing flew away as she stepped back, looked through the open doorway...and there were Dean and Cas, still trailing ichorous black threads from the abyss.

“Hey, Eileen,” Dean said. “Sammy, a little help here?”

She felt the rumble of a response vibrate through Sam’s chest as he craned his neck to look at his brother. “You good?” he signed hastily. Eileen nodded, and he stepped away. 

She was fine.

She was so much better than fine.

Watching Sam hastily return to his brother’s side, the two bent close in earnest conversation as one of Sam’s hands idly picked sludge from Cas’ trench coat. She could only catch a few words, but it didn’t matter. They’d done it. They’d actually  _ done  _ it, channeling magic from a score of nexus points to rip open the fabric of space-time and do what even Jack had said was impossible: invade the Empty and bring someone back.

It had to work.

She’d have to call the hunters across the world that they’d worked with to enact the ritual.

Because it  _ did  _ work.

And now, all of them, together?

Had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...alright.
> 
> I'm pretty blasted now, no idea if I'll get to more tomorrow, but I hope ya'll have enjoyed the ones I did. I tried to give us some fun "what if's" to meet some of the hopes people expressed to me for the finale. I know there are loads of other codas out there, too...when canon disappoints us, that's what fanfic is for, right?
> 
> Stay strong, my fandom family - we got this.
> 
> I'm gonna go through the remaining prompts and assemble a list of what got done and what didn't, and I'll poke at that tomorrow if I'm able.
> 
> Check me out on social media!  
> Tumblr: [unforth](https://unforth.tumblr.com/) (very multifandom with a decent amount of politics/social justice)  
> Twitter: [unforth](https://twitter.com/unforth) (mostly MDZS/CQL, with a splash of multifandom and also a decent amount of politics/social justice, cause sorry, them's the times)  
> Discord: unforth#6748


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mornin' ya'll, I've mustered up the energy to do at least one more! (I'm still just going through the list of prompts in the order I received them).
> 
> Chapter 11 is for [gatstiel](https://gatstiel.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Prompt: I wanted a CasDean forehead touch and a Saileen reunion. (It's okay if you only do one of these)
> 
> Rating: Gen  
> Ships: Destiel, Saileen  
> Characters: Dean, Cas, Sam, Eileen  
> Tags: Canon divergent, Eileen fixes everything
> 
> Note that I haven't actually seen the episode. I did watch a short clip of the barn scene to write the fic, just so I could get Sam's dialog at the beginning right, but I don't know all the details, especially in terms of what happened to the vampires, so if what I say in this fic is wrong...sorry not sorry? I guess????

“It’s...it’s okay…” Choking down sobs, Sam struggled to keep himself together - just for a minute, just one minute more, because  _ oh, God, Dean is dying, and Dean will be dead in a minute _ , ONE MINUTE _ , and stop, just stop, this is my last chance to say anything to him, our last minute, and I w.i.l.l. n.o.t. waste it! Just gotta hold it together, just have to say--  _ “It’s okay. You can go. You--”

A concussive blast interrupted him, sweeping the room with dust and splinters, tangling hair across his face to stick in his tears. Dean startled and gurgled in pain, hot blood gushing out to coat the hand Sam had pressed to the wound. Blinking, Sam tried to focus, tried to figure out what happened, tried to prepare for an attack - and still wasn’t ready when one came. Powerful hands landed on his shoulder, shoving him hard.

“ _ Move _ , Sam!” shouted a deep, gruff...familiar?...voice as Sam sprawled to the ground. He was on the move instantly, have risen, when his eyes confirmed the impossibility that his ears had suggested.

“ _ Cas _ ?” Sam cried.

Cas ignored him, his attention on Dean. “Hold on,” Cas rumbled, grabbing Dean’s shoulders. Dean tried to lift a hand, his lips working as he tried to say something, his eyes wide and already going glassy. Leaning forward, Cas pressed their foreheads together, light crackling electric from his blue eyes. “Just hold on. I’ve got you. Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

And, with a flutter of wings and a staticky shock of black feathers that made a silhouette against the far wall of the barn for the merest moment, Dean and Cas vanished.

Sam blinked.

_ What? _

Sam swiped his sleeve over his face, wiping away tears made muddy by barn dust, brushing hair out of his field of vision.

_ What the fuck? _

Nope, cleaning himself up a little didn’t make what had just happened any more comprehensible. There were still a mess of dead vamps staked around the room. There was still the world’s most innocuous fucking rusty nail stuck to the post, smeared with blood and gore. The barn doors were gone - that must have been the explosion - and a single black feather swayed through the air and landed on the nail.

And Cas and Dean were just...gone.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” Sam asked weakly. Over the years, he’d ridden an emotional rollercoaster or twenty, but this was something else again…

...okay, that wasn’t true, this was actually about in line with a lot of that other shit…

...but even so. 

What. the. fuck.

“I happened,” said another familiar voice, and Sam’s jaw dropped as a figure resolved from the glow of daylight obscuring everything outside and Eileen stepped into the barn.

_ Eileen _ . He mouthed her name like a prayer, and she smiled.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Hey, Eileen,” he signed, and for the first time since the Empty claimed Cas...no...for the first time since he learned that Chuck was God...no...for the first time since they got the Mark of Cain off Dean’s arm...no...for the first time since the church, and the angel’s raining down, and...no...for the first time since Dean knocked on his motel door, alive and whole and real and raised from hell...no...for the first time since Yellow Eye’s died...no…

“ _ How _ ?” asked Sam.

...no...none of those times were like now, not a single one.

Eileen hurried to his side, dropped to kneel at his side, and said, “I’ll tell you later. We should go - Dean and Cas’ll be waiting for us.

For the first time  _ ever _ , Sam dared to hope, actually believed, that everything,  _ everything _ , would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't read Cas' move as, "MOVE, SAM, I'M GAY" I'm sorry but forget "death of the author" you're just wrong. :D
> 
> Not sure if I'll do more? I'll see how I feel later...


End file.
